Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  But Zbyszko, instead of answering, stretched himself on the saddle, put his hands on his hips, gave his head a toss and sang:

  “I cried the whole night, cried in the morning, Where have you been, my sweet girl, my darling! It will not help me, if I mourn for thee, Because I am quite sure, you will not see me.”

  “Hej!”

  This “hej” resounded in the forest, reverberated against the trunks of the trees, finally reëchoed in the far distance and then was lost in the thickets.

  Again Macko felt his side, in which the German spearhead had lodged and said, moaning a little:

  “Formerly the people were wiser!”

  Then he became thoughtful, as if recollecting the old times; and he added:

  “Although even then some of them were stupid also.”

  But, in the meantime, they emerged from the forest, behind which they perceived the miners’ sheds, and further walls, built by King Kazimierz, and the tower of the fara erected by Wladyslaw Lokietek.

  The canon of the fara beard Macko’s confession and offered them hospitality; they remained there over night, and started the next morning. Beyond Olkusk, they turned toward Szlonsk, and on its boundaries, they proposed to ride toward Wielkopolska. The road was laid out through a large forest, in which there was heard toward sunset, the roaring of the urus and of the bison, and during the night the eyes of wolves were seen shining behind the thick hazelnut trees. But the greatest danger which threatened the traveler on this road, was from the German and Germanized knights of Szlonsk, whose castles were erected here and there near the boundaries. It is true, that because of the war with the Opolczyk, Naderspraw, whom the Silesians were helping against King Wladyslaw, the majority of these castles had been destroyed by Polish hands; it was necessary, however, to be watchful, and especially after sunset, and to have one’s weapons ready.

  They were riding so quietly, however, that Zbyszko found the journey tedious; when they were about one day’s journey from Bogdaniec, they heard the snorting and trampling of horses behind them.

  “Some people are following us,” said Zbyszko.

  Macko, who was awake, looked at the stars and answered like an experienced traveler:

  “Day-break is near. Robbers do not attack toward the end of the night.”

  Zbyszko stopped the wagon; however, placed the men across the road, facing the advancing horses, and waited.

  In fact, after a certain time he perceived in the dusk, several horsemen. One of them was riding ahead, and it was evident that he did not wish to hide, because he was singing. Zbyszko could not hear the words of the song; but the gay “hoc! hoc!” with which the stranger ended each refrain, reached his ears.

  “Our people!” he said to himself.

  After a while he shouted, however:

  “Stop!”

  “And you sit down!” answered a joyous voice.

  “Who are you?”

  “And you?”

  “Why do you follow us?”

  “And why do you obstruct the road?”

  “Answer, our crossbows are bent.”

  “And ours, — thrust out, — aimed!”

  “Answer like a man, otherwise woe to you!”

  To this a merry song was given, as an answer to Zbyszko.

  “One misery with another They are dancing on the crossway. Hoc! Hoc! Hoc! What use have they of dancing? It’s a good thing, anyhow. Hoc! Hoc! Hoc!”

  Zbyszko was amazed at hearing such an answer; meantime, the song stopped and the same voice asked:

  “And how is the old man Macko? Does he still breathe?”

  Macko rose in the wagon and said:

  “For God’s sake, they are some of our people!”

  Zbyszko rushed forward.

  “Who asks about Macko?”

  “A neighbor. Zych of Zgorzelice. I have looked for you for a week and inquired about you from all on the road.”

  “Rety! Uncle! Zych of Zgorzelice is here!” shouted Zbyszko.

  They began to greet each other joyfully because Zych was really their neighbor, and also a good man of whom everybody was very fond on account of his mirth.

  “Well, how are you?” asked he, shaking hands with Macko. “Still hoc, or no more hoc!”

  “Hej, no more hoc!” answered Macko. “But I see you gladly. Gracious God, it is as if I were already in Bogdaniec.”

  “What is the matter with you; I heard that the Germans had wounded you?”

  “They did, dog-brothers! I A head of a spear stuck between my ribs.”

  “You see!” said Zbyszko, “everybody advises the grease of a bear. As soon as we reach Bogdaniec, I will go with an axe to the barcie.”

  “Perhaps Jagienka has some.”

  “What Jagienka? Your wife’s name was Malgochna,” said Macko.

  “O! Malgochna is no more! It will be three years on St. Michael’s day since Malgochna was buried in the priests’ field. She was a sturdy woman; may the Lord make his face shine upon her soul! Jagienka is exactly like her, only younger.”

  “Behind a ravine, there is a mount, As was mother, such is daughter. Hoc! Hoc!”

  “I told Malgochna not to climb the pine tree because she was no longer young. But she would climb it. The branch broke; she fell and was badly hurt; within three days, she died.”

  “Lord, make your face shine upon her soul!” said Macko. “I remember, I remember! When she was angry, the farm boys used to hide in the hay. But she was clever. So she fell from a pine tree!”

  “She fell down like a cone. Do you know, after the funeral I was so stupefied with grief, that for three days they could not arouse me. They thought I was dead. Afterward, I wept for a long time. But Jagienka is also clever. She takes care of everything.”

  “I can scarcely remember her. She was not as large as the helve of an axe when I went away. She could pass under a horse without touching its body. Bah! that is a long time ago, and she must have grown.”

  “She was fifteen the day of St. Agnes; but I have not seen her for more than a year.”

  “Why have you not seen her? Where have you been?”

  “To the war. I do not need to stay home; Jagienka takes care of everything.”

  Macko, although ill, began to listen attentively when the war was mentioned, and asked:

  “Perhaps you were with Kniaz Witold at Worskla?”

  “Yes, I was there,” answered Zych of Zgorzelice gaily. “Well, the Lord God did not send him good luck; we were dreadfully defeated by Edyga. First they killed our horses. A Tartar will not attack you openly like a Christian knight, but throws his arrows from afar. You attack him and he flees, and then again throws his arrows. What can you do with such a man? In our army the knights boasted and said: ‘We do not need to lower our spears, nor draw our swords; we will crush the vermin under our horses’ feet.’ So they boasted; but when the arrows began to twange, it grew dark they were so numerous, and the battle was soon over. Hardly one out of ten survived. Will you believe it? More than half of the army were slain; seventy Lithuanian and Russian princes lay dead on the battlefield; and one could not count in two weeks’ time, the bojars and other courtiers, whom they call otroks, that were killed.”

  “I heard about it,” interrupted Macko. “Many of our knights perished also.”

  “Bah! even ten Knights of the Cross were killed, because they were obliged to serve in Witold’s army. Many of our people perished, because they, you know, never run away. Kniaz Witold had the greatest confidence in our knights and he wanted a guard of them round him during the battle, exclusively Poles. Hi! Hi! Great havoc was made among them; but he was not touched! Pan Spytko of Mielsztyn was killed, also the sword bearer, Bernat, Judge Mikolaj, Prokop, Przeclaw, Dobrogost, Jasko of Lazewice, Pilik Mazur, Warsz of Michow, Wojewoda Socha, Jasko of Dombrowa, Pietrko of Miloslaw, Szczepiecki, Oderski and Tomko Lagoda. Who can enumerate all of them! Some of them had been hit with so many arrows, that after death they looked like porcupines; it was awful to look
at them!”

  Here he laughed as if he were telling a most amusing story, and at once he began to sing:

  “You have learned what is a Tartar, When he beat you and flew afar!”

  “Well, and what then?” asked Zbyszko.

  “Then the grand duke escaped; but he was as courageous as he usually is. The more you press him, the farther he jumps, like a hazelnut stick. We rushed to the Tavanian ford to defend those crossing over. There were with us a few knights from Poland. The second day, Edyga came with a swarm of Tartars; but he could not do a thing. Hej! When he wanted to pass the ford, we fought him so hard he could not do it. We killed and caught many of them. I myself caught five Tartars, and I sent them to Zgorzelice. You will see what dogheads they have.”

  “In Krakow, they say that the war may reach Poland also.”

  “Do they think Edyga is a fool! He knows well what kind of knights we have; and he also knows that the greatest knights remained home, because the queen was not pleased when Witold began the war on his own authority. Ej, he is cunning, that old Edyga! He understood at Tavania that the prince’s army had increased and had gone far beyond the tenth-land!”

  “But you returned?”

  “Yes, I returned. There is nothing to do there. In Krakow I heard about you, and that you had started a little ahead of me.”

  Here he turned to Zbyszko:

  “Hej! my lord, the last time I saw you, you were a small boy; and now, although there is no light, I suppose you are large like an urus. And you had your crossbows ready! One can see you have been in the war.”

  “War has nurtured me since childhood. Let my uncle tell you if I am lacking in experience.”

  “It is not necessary for your uncle to tell me anything; in Krakow, I saw the Pan of Taczew who told me about you. But I understand that the Mazur does not want to give you his daughter. I have nothing against you; but I like you. You will forget about that one when you see my Jagienka. She is a wonder!”

  “I shall not forget, even if I see ten such as your Jagna.”

  “She will get the estate of Moczydoly for her dowry. Many will ask me for Jagna, do not fear?”

  Zbyszko wanted to answer: “But not I!” But Zych of Zgorzelice began to sing:

  “I will bend to your knees And you for that, will give me the girl, Give me the girl!”

  “You are always happy and singing,” said Macko.

  “Well, and what do the blessed do in heaven.”

  “They sing.”

  “Well, then! And the damned cry. I prefer to go to those who sing rather than to those who cry; and St. Peter will say thus: ‘We must let him into paradise; otherwise he will sing in hell, and that will not be right.’ Look, the day breaks!”

  In fact, daylight was coming. After awhile they arrived at a large glade. By the lake covering the greater part of the glade, some people were fishing; but seeing the armed men, they left their nets and immediately seized their picks and staffs and stood ready for battle.

  “They thought we were robbers,” said Zych, laughing. “Hej, fishermen! To whom do you belong?”

  They stood for a while silently, looking distrustfully; but finally one of them having recognized that they were knights, answered:

  “To the ksiondz, the abbot of Tulcza.”

  “Our relative,” said Macko, “the same who holds Bogdaniec in pledge. These must be his forests; but he must have purchased them a short time ago.”

  “He did not buy them,” answered Zych. “He was fighting about them with Wilk of Brzozowa and it seems that the abbot defeated Wilk. A year ago they were going to fight on horseback with spears and long swords for this part of the forest; but I do not know how it ended because I went away.”

  “Well, we are relatives,” said Macko, “he will not quarrel with us.”

  “Perhaps; he is a chivalrous abbot who knows how to wear a helmet; but he is pious and he sings the mass beautifully. Don’t you remember? When he shouts at mass, the swallows nested under the ceiling, fall from their nests. In that way God’s glory increases.”

  “Certainly I remember! At ten steps he could blow the candles at the altar out. Has he been in Bogdaniec?”

  “Yes, he was there. He settled five peasants on the land. He has also been at my house at Zgorzelice, because, as you know, he baptized Jagienka, of whom he is very fond and calls her little daughter.”

  “God will bless him if he be willing to leave me the peasants,” said Macko.

  “Owa! what will five peasants amount to! Then Jagienka will ask him and he will not refuse her.”

  Here the conversation stopped for a while, because over the dark forest and from the pink down, the bright sun had risen and lighted the environs. The knights greeted it with the customary: “May it be blessed!” and then having made the sign of the cross, they began their morning prayers.

  Zych finished first and said to his companions:

  “I hope to see you well soon. Hej! you have both changed. You, Macko, must regain your health. Jagienka will take care of you, because there is no woman in your house. One can see that you have a piece of iron between your ribs.”

  Here he turned toward Zbyszko:

  “Show yourself also. Well, mighty God! I remember you when you were small and used to climb on the colts by the help of their tails; and now, what a knight! The face looks like that of a little lord; but the body like that of a sturdy man. Such can wrestle even with a bear.”

  “A bear is nothing for him!” said Macko. “He was younger than he is to-day, when that Fryzjan called him a beardless youth; and he resenting it, immediately pulled out the Fryzjan’s mustaches.”

  “I know,” interrupted Zych, “and you fought afterward, and captured their retinue. Pan of Taczew told me all about it:”

  “There came a German very proud, He was buried with sore snout; Hoc! Hoc!”

  Zbyszko wondered at Zych’s long thin figure, at his thin face with its enormous nose and at his laughing round eyes.

  “O!” said he, “with such a neighbor there will be no sadness, if God only restore my uncle’s health.”

  “It is good to have a joyful neighbor, because with a jolly fellow there will be no quarrel,” answered Zych. “Now listen to what I tell you. You have been away from home a long time, and you will not find much comfort in Bogdaniec. I do not say in the farming, because the abbot has taken care of that; he dug up a large piece of the forest and settled new peasants. But as he went there very often, you will find the larder empty; even in the house, there is hardly a bench or a bunch of straw to sleep on; and a sick man needs some comforts. You had better come with me to Zgorzelice. I will be glad to have you stay a month or two. During that time, Jagienka will take care of Bogdaniec. Rely on her and do not bother yourselves with anything. Zbyszko can go there, from time to time, to inspect the farming; I will bring the abbot to Zgorzelice, and you can settle your account with him. The girl will take good care of you, as of a father, and during illness, a woman’s care is the best. Well, my dear friends, will you do as I ask you?”

  “We know that you are a good man and you always were,” answered Macko with emotion; “but don’t you see, if I must die on account of this wound, I prefer to die in my own home. Then when one is home, although he is old, he can inquire about different things, can inspect and do many other things. If God order me to go to the other world, well, then I cannot help it! I cannot escape it even with better care. As for inconvenience, we are accustomed to that at the war. Even a bunch of straw is pleasant to that one who, during several years, has slept on the bare ground. But I thank you for your kind heart and if I be not able to show you my gratitude, God will permit Zbyszko to do it.”

  Zych of Zgorzelice, who was noted for his kind heart and readiness to oblige, began to insist: but Macko was firm: “If I must die, it will be better to die in my own courtyard!”

  He had longed to see Bogdaniec for several years, therefore now, when he was so near it, he must go there, even if it were
his last night. God was merciful, having permitted him who was so ill, to reach here.

  He brushed away the tears gathered under his eyelids, with his hand, looked around and said:

  “If these are the woods of Wilk of Bizozowa we will be home this afternoon.”

  “They do not belong to Wilk of Bizozowa any longer; but to the abbot,” said Zych.

  Macko smiled and said after awhile:

  “If they belong to the abbot, then sometime, they may belong to us.”

  “Bah! awhile ago you were talking about death,” said Zych joyfully, “and now you wish to outlive the abbot.”

  “No, I will not outlive him; but Zbyszko may.”

  Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of horns in the forest. Zych stopped his horse and began to listen.

  “Somebody is hunting,” said he. “Wait.”

  “Perhaps it is the abbot. It would be pleasant to meet him here.”

  “Keep quiet!”

  Here he turned to his retinue.

  “Stop!”

  They halted. The horns resounded nearer, and soon afterward the baying of dogs was heard.

  “Stop!” repeated Zych. “They are coming toward us.”

  Zbyszko jumped from his horse and began to shout:

  “Give me the crossbow! The beast may attack us! Hasten! Hasten!”

  Having seized the crossbow from the servant’s hands, he rested it against the ground, pressed it against his abdomen, bent, stretched his back like a bow, and having seized the string with the fingers of both hands, he pulled it on to the iron hook; then placed an arrow and sprang into the woods.

  “He stretched it without a crank!” whispered Zych, astonished at such great strength.

  “Ho, he is a strong boy!” answered Macko, proudly.

  Meanwhile, the sound of horns and the barking of dogs stole nearer; all at once, at the right side of the forest, a heavy trampling resounded, accompanied by the crackling of broken branches and bushes — then out of the thicket rushed an old bearded urus, with his gigantic head lowered, with bloody eyes and panting tongue, breathless and terrible. Coming to a small ravine, he leaped it, but fell on his forelegs; but immediately he arose, and a few seconds later he would have disappeared in the thicket on the other side of the road, when the string of the crossbow twanged, the whistling of the arrow resounded, the beast reared, turned, roared dreadfully and fell on the ground as if he were struck by a thunderbolt.